Between the mysteries of last weekend, the increasing number of visions and unexplained phenomena, and the attack on Vakama yesterday, everyone is likely on edge. When Tails calls you into his lab around noon, you all are likely already aware of how this is going to go.
Once again, a surge of Chaos Energy in the city is what draws you in, though this time it is a much larger burst than before. Sonic and Knuckles are here with you as usual, with Tails remaining behind to look after Vakama and the base. Unlike before, you aren't met with robots or destruction. In fact, this city block looks remarkably peaceful, aside from where Eggman's chroma has overtaken most of the buildings.
"So good of you all to finally arrive."
The voice comes from up above. You recognize it as the one you heard last week, through that gemstone the Tails Doll had. Perched on one of the buildings is a... fox? No, he's larger than Tails, and wearing a large silver mask that obscures most of his features. In one hand he holds Vakama's missing mask; his other is extended with six gemstones floating around it, a soft teal glow from beneath his black glove marking the seventh. There's a different gemstone on the center of his chest as well, though it doesn't look like the fake Chaos Emeralds you've seen before.
"You all have the pleasure of fighting me, Infinite. I am the Doctor's trusted ally... and I have been watching you all. Your struggles with my nightmares and illusions were so... delicious. You have my thanks for the show."
He kicks off the building, floating towards you all and the ground, though stopping high enough up, still out of reach. And for those of you getting any bright ideas, a deep red begins to fill your vision, tinting the corners of it as the very world itself begins to warp around you - this isn't exactly Chicago anymore, you see. The buildings still exist, wrapped in white chroma, though they bend and twist in ways they shouldn't, making it hard to tell what's real and what isn't.
"I'll snuff out your lives here and now for the Doctor's ambitions! Let's see what you're made of!"
[Infinite is desperate. That much is obvious. The way he talks, the way he threatens them... he's on the ropes, and it's all too easy to assume he'll be coming down to fight them in a moment...
He doesn't.
The world goes red, and he's not in Chicago anymore. He's back on the runner. Fidelio is back on the runner, chiding him for being hurt, for being soaked through - what, did he fall in the sea? Who saved him from drowning?
This isn't right... and yet he still can't make himself shake off the illusion. (6)]
[This isn't real, this can't be real - for too many reasons to count.
But it is. Somehow, against all odds, it is... or it feels enough like it that any hope of breaking the illusion blows away on the warm sea breeze.
Especially when warm, loving, brotherly chiding changes - Del can only get on his ass for getting hurt so much, they both know he's the bruiser between them, it happens. That's life.
Life.
Life brings plans. Brings dreams. Ideas of a warm little cafe, of peace, of an end to all this fighting, forever.]
[Maybe this is bargaining. Maybe it's something like acceptance. Maybe it's something too terrible to think about. Whatever the case, it becomes impossible to fight the illusion, the longer it persists.
Even when a cold wind blows over the sea, nothing seems amiss. It only lasts a moment, after all, and all it does is prompt him to finally break the fragile tension preventing him from making contact.
Surely it won't crumble away if he does, right?
So with the chill, he wraps an arm around Fidelio's shoulders. There's a familiar warmth slotted in against his side all too easily, a warmth that had been painful in its absence when last he'd seen him.]
Sorry, Del, we still haven't sent you off proper. Not that it right matters if you'll be stickin' around, yeah?
[ it feels wrong to intrude in such a peaceful scene and ruin it but if they (as a collective) have learned anything over this past month, then it's that when it comes to tough battles like these, the willingness to take the brunt of attacks and draw the attention of the robots is invaluable.
wolfwood, personally, hates the idea of breaking up a reunion of brothers no matter however bittersweet but they need him. ...and definitely not just because who else would feed wolfwood all of those delicious noodles after things have settled down some? ]
Hey.
[ wolfwood will place a hand onto basilio's shoulder and grip it tightly to get his attention ( 12 ) and to pull him away from his brother. sorry. he's really sorry about this. ]
There are other ways that we can send him off, yeah? Better ways to show that ya remember him than to stick around here.
[The illusion shatters and Basilio is returned to this corrupted version of Chicago. The others fight their illusions... but Basilio and Wolfwood aren't alone. Fidelio remains - his appearance twisted by Basilio's own nightmares, in whatever way you'd like.
A copy of Basilio's axe is in his hands, and he wastes no time in swinging it at his brother.]
Its metaphor spoilers time baybee (also cw survivor's guilt, self-harm by proxy)
[He starts when Wolfwood's hand grips his shoulder, surprised anyone else would be here... and yet, why wouldn't there be others? This isn't real. They have work to do. A world to save.
The illusion crumbles... mostly. (And it's time for that image--) Fidelio remains... mostly.
In any other situation it would be almost comical to see him with Basilio's axe in hand and Intent in his eyes - rather than relying on igniter or claw - but now?
Now, he lets the weapon strike true, the height difference and Fidelio's stature being unsuited to using such a weapon the only thing keeping the blow from being a fatal one as the axe embeds deep in his shoulder.]
[Fidelio readies the axe to swing down on Basilio again. There isn't any hesitation—
But Lark catches him hard in the shoulder and the axe swings wide. He turns to Lark then, yanking the axe free from the concrete and swinging it around at him this time.]
[And that's enough to really snap him out of it. Lark stepping in only to then be put in danger himself, after saying something like that??
The wound is gushing blood and makes his arm kind of useless, so he switches his own axe to his off hand to bring it down on illusionary Fidelio - hopefully before he can catch Lark with that swing.]
[It's enough - both to save Lark from that blow, and to put an end to this.
Fidelio is caught hard in the side - he glitches and tries to reform repeatedly, but it's a struggle he ultimately fails. The glitch particles fade upwards into nothingness, leaving behind two very different brothers.]
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no subject
He doesn't.
The world goes red, and he's not in Chicago anymore. He's back on the runner. Fidelio is back on the runner, chiding him for being hurt, for being soaked through - what, did he fall in the sea? Who saved him from drowning?
This isn't right... and yet he still can't make himself shake off the illusion. (6)]
Rolled a 1.............
But it is. Somehow, against all odds, it is... or it feels enough like it that any hope of breaking the illusion blows away on the warm sea breeze.
Especially when warm, loving, brotherly chiding changes - Del can only get on his ass for getting hurt so much, they both know he's the bruiser between them, it happens. That's life.
Life.
Life brings plans. Brings dreams. Ideas of a warm little cafe, of peace, of an end to all this fighting, forever.]
no subject
Even when a cold wind blows over the sea, nothing seems amiss. It only lasts a moment, after all, and all it does is prompt him to finally break the fragile tension preventing him from making contact.
Surely it won't crumble away if he does, right?
So with the chill, he wraps an arm around Fidelio's shoulders. There's a familiar warmth slotted in against his side all too easily, a warmth that had been painful in its absence when last he'd seen him.]
Sorry, Del, we still haven't sent you off proper. Not that it right matters if you'll be stickin' around, yeah?
[There's no resistance left, here.]
no subject
wolfwood, personally, hates the idea of breaking up a reunion of brothers no matter however bittersweet but they need him. ...and definitely not just because who else would feed wolfwood all of those delicious noodles after things have settled down some? ]
Hey.
[ wolfwood will place a hand onto basilio's shoulder and grip it tightly to get his attention ( 12 ) and to pull him away from his brother. sorry. he's really sorry about this. ]
There are other ways that we can send him off, yeah? Better ways to show that ya remember him than to stick around here.
no subject
A copy of Basilio's axe is in his hands, and he wastes no time in swinging it at his brother.]
Its metaphor spoilers time baybee (also cw survivor's guilt, self-harm by proxy)
The illusion crumbles... mostly. (And it's time for that image--) Fidelio remains... mostly.
In any other situation it would be almost comical to see him with Basilio's axe in hand and Intent in his eyes - rather than relying on igniter or claw - but now?
Now, he lets the weapon strike true, the height difference and Fidelio's stature being unsuited to using such a weapon the only thing keeping the blow from being a fatal one as the axe embeds deep in his shoulder.]
no subject
By which I mean he's approached the phantom Fidelio from behind and opted to stab him in the shoulder without hesitation. ]
What the fuck are doing to my big bro.
no subject
But Lark catches him hard in the shoulder and the axe swings wide. He turns to Lark then, yanking the axe free from the concrete and swinging it around at him this time.]
no subject
The wound is gushing blood and makes his arm kind of useless, so he switches his own axe to his off hand to bring it down on illusionary Fidelio - hopefully before he can catch Lark with that swing.]
CLEAR
Fidelio is caught hard in the side - he glitches and tries to reform repeatedly, but it's a struggle he ultimately fails. The glitch particles fade upwards into nothingness, leaving behind two very different brothers.]